To my mum, 7 things I love about you

Sunday, May 11, 2014 Permalink

I like to think my mother knows how much she means to me.

I’m not good at talking about my feelings. And yes… I know this may surprise some people as I’m prone to overshare HUGELY in my blog.

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However, I’ve never said those three words (the middle one being “the L” word) out-loud to anyone*, other than my father. And he was unconscious at the time.**

I write it though, and try to make sure any cards I give my mother express everything I don’t (or can’t) say.

Growing up I was a daddy’s girl (which – on the whole – Freud mostly predicts). Since my teenage years however, my mother and I have been much closer and – after my father’s death and a realisation that I wanted to make some substantial life changes – I made the seachange to a town just half an hour away from my childhood town.

I once pitied an older woman in my workplace who seemed overly preoccupied with her elderly mother***. She was also single and though close to her sister, her mother was her life. “What a loser!” I thought, “She’s got no life of her own!” And now… here I am.

In my new life I see my mother every week and we speak most days. I talk to her about anything and everything. As a single woman I lacked that intimacy in my old life. I had close friends, but no one I could talk to about stuff without any fear of judgment or shame.

I’m sure things would be different if I had my own partner or family, but that wasn’t to be. And… I love my new life: I love where I live; I (mostly) love what I’m doing; I have friends AND I have my mother.

And now it’s Mother’s Day. Because I’m a tad poor at the moment I decided to oblige mum and just give her the $8 for the ABBA CD she recently bought on sale (*sigh*). And mum, there’s this:

7 things I love about you

1. Your devotion to dad, despite everything

‘Original dad’ could be demanding and temperamental but he was also charismatic, thoughtful and loving. ‘Dementia dad’ was often challenging. But your love, devotion and commitment didn’t waver throughout the 48years you had together.

2. Your kindness and thoughtfulness

You show your friends (and strangers) such kindness and generosity of spirit it’s no surprise it’s something for which you’re almost-famous!

3. Your motivation and lack of apathy

You’re never surprised to receive a text from me saying, “When you visit me tomorrow can you force me to go grocery shopping.” For many MANY years I’ve relied on the contagiousness of your motivation, or at least on you guilting me into doing things. NOTHING is too onerous or hard for you. You roll up your sleeves and do whatever is necessary.

4. Your lack of envy and

You’re happy with your ‘lot’ in life. I know you sometimes think I’m being critical of your contentment, but your lack of envy is something I envy!

5. Your faith

While I don’t understand it, I know that your faith gives you a serenity and acceptance (of life) I admire.

6. You know me and you get me. You also inspire me

Your comments in the ‘For my daughter’ book you gave me at Easter broke my heart. To know that your main fear of dying is of leaving me alone makes me want to be a more resilient person. A better person.

7. How much you love me.

While neither you nor I say the three little words directly, I know I’m loved by you. Through your thoughtful gestures and the things you do, I know I’m in your heart and your thoughts. Always.

Happy Mother’s Day mum!


* I know, I know… you’re all shocked I’m single!
** Dad didn’t wake, eat or drink for six days before passing away. (Talk about resilience!)
*** Although not ‘friends’ I’m still in contact with this person and she’s got a gazillion friends and constantly travelling. So I was *kinda* wr-wr-wrong!